Somehow this book manages to be both great and completely average at the same time. Below, I will attempt to explain.
Contemporaries with Erich Fromm on the one hand and Rogers and Maslow on the other, Rollo May tracks a course between them. Like his contemporaries, May was writing at a time where the field was trying to find a way beyond Freud. According to May, and he was onto something in this regard, the fundamental psychological malady of the day has (in 1953) changed since Freud's time. The neurotics of Freud's era, who were unsuccessfully coping with the Victorian morals and bourgeoisie family headed by the paterfamilias, had by 1950s America given way. May fairly depicts the liberalization of the American culture, including the sexual mores, since the 1920s and carrying through the 1950s. However, that had not given rise to a liberated man. Instead, we found a man in 1950s America who was equally unfree. However, 1950s man--not unlike his 2020s counterpart--often did not even know what was ailing him. What May describes is a piece with what David Riesman had diagnosed as the outer-directed personality and what William Whyte had depicted as the organization man. What we have, says May, and I would tend to agree, is the loneliness (in the sense of the Lonely Crowd) and anxiety of modern man.
After going over the roots of the predicament and the etiology of the malady, May launches into what could aptly be called a neo-Freudian counter to Roger's and Maslow's humanistic psychology. At times it was incredibly insightful; at other times, it was infuriatingly limited; and at yet other times, painstakingly plodding in the writing and analysis. In short, it captured the best and the worst of the Freudian tradition. In his diagnosis, May was in abundant company, including the authors mentioned above. He was also clearly following in the footsteps of Freud and among others Karen Horney. In this vein, one of the frustrating limitations of the Freudian and neo-Freudian tradition was the use of individual case histories as evidence to support their theories. May was a product of this tradition and falls victim to this limitation. At best, an individual case history is an illustration; it is by no means a proof of concept. There are more than a few striking examples where this led May askew and on occasion to gross over-generalization. As a diagnostic tool for the culture, his replacement of the Orestes complex for Oedipus still seems incredibly off the mark. American has, historically and until the very recent past, been a culture that left the business and public sphere to men and largely delegated the home quarter's to the wives. While there are certainly individuals who deal with overbearing mothers, America has never been a matriarchy outside of the domestic quarters.
With that said, May is at other times surprisingly insightful; subject to his method, he is hit or miss; and with the hits, they strike a cord. 1950s man is, according to May, in an existential bind. Like the boys in Lord of the Flies, man finds himself stationed on the the pale blue dot, the third rock from the sun, without any gods except the ones he himself creates. Meanwhile, unlike the species, each individual is born completely helpless and dependent on the parents. The challenge for man (the species) is to grow up into maturity beyond the imaginary gods and beasts that he creates to bolster and scare himself. The challenge for the individual is to grow up and gain independence from the parents that he was so dependent on in infancy, childhood, and adolescence. May, taking a positive step in Freudian theory, no longer theorizes only about the stages of development in literal childhood; he now also speaks about the maturity man the individual and man the species must achieve.
The space we find man the individual and man the species is not an auspicious one, says May. Man and the American culture (the 1950s) is at a transitional moment. The frontier has been conquered; the Victorian morals have been helplessly outdated since the 1920s; the bourgeoisie values no longer provide direction. Yet we have not replaced them with a workable personality type and workable values to follow. Gone are pioneers who tamed the West, gone are the titans of industry - these were the old outer-directed man - outer directed towards conquering the frontier. Gone is the John Wayne swashbuckler; he took his cues from himself - this was the inner-directed man. The new outer directed personality takes his cues from the others; he gets his values and rewards from his parents, from his friends, and from society. Man can never satisfactorily get his cues from the other; that is like walking around taking ones cues from a mirror. These don't work; they are hollow. The outer-directed man is the hallow man, hallow in the midst of a crowd. Unsurprisingly, without values and a direction coming from his core self, the new outer-directed man is afflicted by anxiety. We know this outer-directed man; he is still with us in the boys, girls, men, and women of 2020. This is the the VSCO girl; this the teen and twenty something who live off of the likes on The Gram; this is the twenty something and thirty something who feed off of their matches on Tinder. However, the outlook is not much better for the rebel with or without a cause. May provides insight about the rebellion that has permeated American culture since the 1920s. May, following Nietzsche's striking insight about cultures, values, and the origin of the negation, shows the nature of rebellion. Rebellion is still rebellion against a dominant system of norms and values; rebellion takes the norms and values as given and then exists as a negation of them. Reading the limitations of the rebellions of the 1920s and 1950s, May has predicted the shortcomings of the rebellions to come in the 1960s through 1990s. The rebel has not really moved beyond his parent's and society's values. He assumes those values as the order; his defiance is their negation. However, he has not yet created a new set of values. Freedom, according to May, is moving beyond the outer-directed personality, beyond taking his values from parents and society; it is moving beyond rebellion and values that exists as negation.
The prescriptions May provides for finding true freedom, in moving beyond outer-directedness and rebellion are, not surprisingly, not wholly satisfactory. Otherwise May would be hailed as the greatest psychologist and philosopher of his generation. We will keep working on those answers.